


Aitlu, Ma

by MercuryandMoonlight



Series: Who Run The World? [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Angst, Background Relationships, Bonding, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, M/M, Pon Farr, Romance, Smut, Telepathic Bond, Vulcan Biology, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Language, Vulcan Mind Melds, background Spirk, past t'pring/spock, past t'pring/stonn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryandMoonlight/pseuds/MercuryandMoonlight
Summary: T'pring found bitter truth in Spock's statement that 'After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true.'





	1. Now is the Winter of our Discontent

**Author's Note:**

> "Aitlu, Ma" - to want, to have.  
> \- TRADITIONAL & MODERN GOLIC VULCAN -  
> \--http://www.vli-online.org/ohv-eng.htm
> 
> Vulcan speaking is in italics within quotes.

    T'pring had found truth in Spock's statement and it echoed in her mind, in the place where he used to be:

> "After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true."

    With respect to her own honor and Stonn's, they had spent time together but never touched. Once the _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_ was completed and Spock had lost all interest in her, she felt waves of relief passing over her. This _pon farr_ had been difficult despite receiving treatment. She respected her culture and her parents, their choices had been quite logical. Spock was from a prestigious lineage, even if he was half human. She should have continued and completed the bond and yet she did not. 

    Her reasoning was flawlessly logical. Spock's fame would outshine her own endeavors and his commitment to Starfleet was less than ideal if they were to begin reproducing. Stonn was the logical choice: strong, loyal, completely devoted to her, intelligent, a scientist of agriculture with whom she had developed new vegetation for Vulcan. As a botanist, it was quite ideal. 

    Why then, when they were finally free to bond, did Stonn's touch repel her? Their fingers met and she felt nothing like the old pre-reform erotic songs foretold of joining. It was hollow and bitter. She did not have to tell him, he felt her revulsion. Logically, he rescinded his proposal and left for medical treatment to quell his burning blood.

    The next morning, T'pring went to her physician in search of an answer. Perhaps the humans had brought down contaminants from their many missions and had made her ill? It was the most amenable answer to her problem.

    “ _There is nothing wrong with you. Physically, your health is excellent.”_

    “ _Then why am I no longer attracted to my intended?”_

    “ _The treatment for the mating time takes time to work. Your hormones are completely back to baseline. Perhaps you did not burn for him as you thought. Perhaps being bonded to a half human has dampened your burning blood.”_

    “ _That would curb recovery time significantly. Logical. Thank you, doctor.”_

    T'pring returned to her work for months, diligently caring for her cross-bred experiments. It was illogical to prefer one flower over another but she did note that one particular brilliant red flower, with bright golden stamens and long frilled petals, was considerably more aesthetically pleasing than the rest. It was the most fragrant and had a sweet fruity taste. The petals were like velvet on her tongue, soft until the small sacs burst and the dew ran down her throat. It almost made her forget the empty place in her mind where Spock once accompanied her. 

    She decided that she needed a change. This new flower had medicinal properties that could cure the new epidemic Orion fever. This was it's primary purpose. That it was aesthetically pleasing was irrelevant. The Vulcan Science Academy had offered to send her to oversee the treatments on Orion. She decided to accept.

 

 


	2. Gilded Tombs Do Worms Enfold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'pring finds the Federation has sent help to Orion in the form of certain familiar Starfleet officers.

    Arriving on Orion, T'pring discovered that Starfleet was also called to handle the outbreak because the fever was causing extreme aggressiveness and violence in the Orions, causing riots and destruction. It was a class 3 war zone and precautions must be taken. T'pring was advised to stay in the lab but she could not remain and do nothing when the cure was synthesized and ready for distribution. People were dying when the answer was in her hands. Taking several hypos full of the cure, T'pring tread carefully through the facility.

    Using stealth and strength, she managed to treat 27 Orions before she was trapped in a corridor, surrounded. There were 3 Orion females, 2 Orion males, and 4 neutrois Orions, all intent on tearing her apart and raping her. She only used her combat skills when necessary and now it would be necessary. They pounced upon her and she fought hard, logic giving way to her pre-reform roots as rage began to rise in her, the Orions tearing at her flesh and clothes. Above their snarling, she heard a cry of “Captain! Spock! Over here!” from a familiar feminine voice before the sound of phasers overrode her cries.

    T'pring was halfway to her primal state, snarling back at them and clawing at their faces. Her logical mind was submerged beneath the primitive murky waters of her ancestors and when Spock reached her, she fought him too. He held her arms and the Captain fired his phaser, stunning her but it only weakened her. Spock held her as she slumped to the floor, still writhing. He placed his fingers on the meld points and looked into her eyes.

    “ _T'pring! It is I, Sch'n T'gai Spock_. _You know me! We were bonded once! Hear my voice! Our minds are one, our thoughts are one. Come back to yourself.”_

    “ _Spock. The rage, it is too strong. There is fear. I am drowning.”_

    “ _T'pring, you are strong, you are Vulcan. Return to yourself. Master yourself. I have never met a mind so disciplined. Follow my mind up and out of the waters.”_

    “Captain, will she be all right?” Uhura looked on, concerned. There was blood all over T'pring's lovely face, in her hair, all along the scratches and bites on her body. Her clothing barely clung to her. She wanted to help. “If only I had been able to open the doors sooner!” Tears welled up in her eyes.

    “Uhura, this isn't your fault. You did what you could. If not for you, she might have died.” He had to keep a brave face for his crew, for his friends. In truth, the scene before them was horrific. T'pring had killed 3 Orions, maimed 4 of them. He knew that when Vulcans had overwhelming emotions, it negatively impacted their health. T'pring might die from this. Why hadn't she stayed in the lab? He opened his communicator, setting the frequency. “Bones? Are you there? We need medical assistance in the 3rd quadrant.”

    “Jim? Are you hurt?”

    “Not me. T'pring, a Vulcan, and the Orions who attacked her. Bring Nurse Chapel. It's not pretty.”

    “On my way.”

    Spock lay T'pring down gently and removed his shirt to cover her bare chest.

    Jim walked over and knelt down beside them, put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Spock, how is she?”

    Spock's concern for T'pring outweighed the taboo of speaking about such matters but he whispered so only Jim could hear. “Not well. Aside from the physical damage, the psychological damage is extensive. I attempted to heal her but our bond is broken so I was not able to. I tried to dive deep into the primitive waters to find her beneath the instinct. She was almost rabid but I found her. I did what I could but I fear it is not enough. She needs medical attention urgently. With the last vestiges of her strength, she went into a meditative coma to combat her primal self. Surak be with her.”

    “My God! This is a blood-bath!” Bones stood surveying the scene and Christine gasped in shock, covering her mouth in horror. “Nurse, please find the Vulcan physicians.”

    Spock took a deep calming breath before rising. “I'll go with you. Uhura, please guard this area against further attack. Should T'pring stir, speak only in Vulcan and use the meditative chant which quiets the mind.”

    “Yes, sir. I'll take care of her.” Uhura was visibly shaken but straightened up and wiped her eyes, phaser ready by her side, determination in her sad eyes. Spock knew any officer would be able to protect the scene, and with Jim there, he would do everything in his power to keep these people from further harm, but he was comforted to know that of all the xenolinguistic specialists, Uhura would be the one to watch over T'pring in her state. Nyota had exceptionally deep compassion, honor, and loyalty, which were very Vulcan qualities. His former bond-mate and childhood friend was safest in her hands. He bowed his head in thanks and left with Christine to find the Vulcan physicians.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Femslash February! There's not enough ladies loving ladies in the world and not nearly enough fic about the iconic T'pring and the lovely Uhura. I went full trekkie here.


	3. These Violent Delights have Violent Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Pring is hospitalized. Uhura visits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “These violent delights have violent ends  
> And in their triump die, like fire and powder  
> Which, as they kiss, consume” -- Romeo and Juliet
> 
> Star Trek loves Shakespeare so there we are.

    After 3 long and brutal days of fighting and incapacitating the Orions, the crisis was finally over. The cure could only be administered via injection directly into the spine and, as Orions had incredibly thick spinal membranes to protect them during their wild acrobatics, the only access point was behind their eyes, just to the left of the lacrimal duct. If the Orions were not completely unconscious, they would be blinded, so they had to be captured and subdued before treatment could be given.

 

    Each day after her shift ended, even though she was tired and sore and had just spent 30 minutes scrubbing Orion blood off of her, Nyota found herself in the medical bay, watching over T'pring. Each night, after everything was relatively quiet in the long-term care facility, she put on a fresh uniform, did her hair and makeup, and sat at T'pring's bedside, singing old Vulcan songs that Spock had taught her.

 

    Even with her hair in disarray and her makeup scrubbed off, T'pring was still radiantly beautiful. A thin sheen of sweat covered her and occasionally, she writhed on the bed, giving off small whimpers, muttering some Vulcan phrases. At that time, Nyota would take a cool cloth and gently wipe T'pring's face. Seeing her brow unknit and calmness reclaim her made Nyota's heart melt. She knew the Vulcan taboos against touch so she was always very careful but she longed to gently cup T'pring's cheek and run her fingers through the long dark locks. They curled in mesmerizing patterns and looked like glossy silk. Each night, after about an hour, Christine would check on her and usher her to bed. Her affections were obvious but it was a lost cause, and not only because the physicians were still uncertain that she would ever awaken.

 

    On the day after the crisis ended, the doctors have declared to Spock that T'pring is slipping away, that her mind has endured too much. There is nothing more they can do for her. They shall alert her family on Vulcan.

 

    Spock sits at her bedside and only those closest to him would be able to see the sadness in his eyes. Nyota guesses correctly that he has not received good news. When he tells her, she cries. For a moment, she forgets about customs and places a hand on T'pring's cheek. Her heart ached. It was ridiculous. She couldn't possibly feel so much for someone she had barely known but she did. From the moment she had first seen T'pring on the viewing screen, her heart had been moved. After the engagement was broken off, Spock had reluctantly confided in Nyota about her, about how if he could have ever loved someone it would logically have been T'pring. Nyota had told him then the same thing Amanda had told him many times: love is not logical. Perhaps in another life, she would have been blessed to cross paths with such an extraordinary woman. Now, she never would. She mourned her broken heart, the missed chance of two ships passing in the night. Before she knew it, her lips were pressed to T'pring's, soft and heated with fever. She felt a warmth rush over her, tingling in her skin, and her heart calmed, her mind calmed, like being submerged in a warm milky bath, darkness all around, the liquid core of Vulcan beneath the caves.

 

    Spock's eyes widened. He does not stop her. She has been caring for T'pring for all this time, it is logical to mourn her loss. She had a brilliant mind, derived the cure for the fever that had almost destroyed the Orions. However, it was not logical for Nyota, overcome with emotion, tears streaming down her face, to place a gentle human kiss to T'pring's lips. Was this some human custom? His mind helpfully supplied the memory of his mother reading from a book of fairy tales about a princess cursed to sleep and awoken by true love's kiss. He does not expect anything to come of it, that would be foolish, and yet...

 

    Nyota feels warm hands gently settle on her arms. Her head is buzzing and the hands slide up, one resting on her face, the other in her hair. Her thoughts are spinning, swimming in that warm milky bath: heartache, love, compassion, guilt, longing, joy, hope, PAIN, RAGE, FEAR. This is the sweetest and most heart-wrenching kiss she has ever received, the intensity of the emotions flowing through her incongruous to the gentle touch.

 

    She pulls away, sits up, and T'pring comes with her, lips parted from her but never parted. She feels a warm ghost of the kiss still on her lips, T'pring's hand still on her face, fingers gently grazing her temple. Light rises like the dawn in her thoughts, pale shimmering gold and pink and blue and violet and silver. Streaks of color and comforting calm swirl around beautifully in her mind and she feels herself swimming in the waters of T'pring's mind. Memories from each other's lives swirl around at random.

 

    T'pring declaring _kal-if-fee._ Nyota being accepted into Starfleet. T'pring's first hospitalization for an emotional outburst where she broke a boy's nose for teasing Spock. Nyota winning her first track competition at secondary school in record time. Receiving commendations from the Vulcan Science Academy. The many times her life was in danger aboard the Enterprise. The bonding ceremony with Spock when they were 7 years old. Flashes of beautiful landscapes and architectural marvels in Kenya and on Vulcan, Nyota singing with her mother, T'pring reading with her mother preparing to defeat the learning pods, Nyota's mathematical dissertation at university for which she won several awards, T'pring's first successful germinating cross-bred plant, loneliness, passion, first kisses, first periods, first broken bones, life.

 

    The water is both of them and they resurface, never and always touching and touched. They can breathe again. Nyota opens her eyes slowly and sees T'pring's large brown eyes staring into hers, heavy lidded and soft, lips still parted slightly, nostrils flaring delicately. Joy soars in her heart and she smiles. T'pring's mouth curves slightly and she can feel the smooth tempered happiness, like honey flowing gently and sweetly on her tongue.

 

    T'pring slides her hands down gently, two fingers poised in _ozh'esta,_ joining them to Nyota's.

 

    “ _Thank you.”_ The memories they shared still swim in T'pring's mind but the peace and tranquility she feels helps to sort them. Logic has returned to her, given by the most illogical Lt. Nyota Uhura of the starship Enterprise, a human female. Surak save them both.

 


	4. Get Thee to a Nunnery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock walks Uhura to her quarters and she seems unwell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE the new rating! Masturbation and possible voyeurism through mental link???
> 
> Since this is pon farr, it was gonna get sexy at some point ;)

    After she awakened, Spock fetched the Vulcan physician. Privacy was required for the exam so the woman asked them to leave. Uhura, still in a daze, did not respond so Spock ushered her out. He suspected that the exchange may have been overwhelming for Uhura as a human, but he had no idea how much. He walked her back to her temporary quarters on Orion.

 

    “Lt. Uhura, I advise that Dr. McCoy see you right away. Your condition seems to be worsening.” He noted the tremor in her hands and the light sheen of sweat on her brow, breathing irregular.

 

    “Dammit, Spock, you don't know everything! You're not a doctor!” Uhura's eyes were wide, irritability obvious. He was only slightly taken aback by her illogical reactions.

 

    “Which is why I recommend--”

 

    “Stuff your recommendations and leave me the Hell alone!” She rushed into her quarters and locked the door with the keypad. Her head ached and she felt this profound longing to be back with T'pring but she knew she had to leave the doctor to do her work. She was sorry she was rude to Spock but she couldn't stand him right now. Something in her was green with envy that he had bonded with T'pring, even if she rejected him. It was ridiculous! Spock was her friend.

 

    How could a mind-meld have messed her up so badly? She pressed her hand to her lips, still trembling. A sweet voice echoed in her mind, deep and velvety...

 

_'Parted from me and never parted...'_

 

    Shaking her head to clear it, she looked around. What was that? She was alone. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her rapid heart-rate, her heaving chest...the softness of her breast...

 

    “Snap out of it!” Now she was talking to herself. It happened often, as a way of keeping herself company, but sometimes she needed to kick her own ass. Perhaps a cold shower would do the trick?

 

    She stripped quickly and entered the bathroom, stepping into the luxurious tub and ignoring all of the different soaps in favor of turning the tap all the way to freezing. She nearly screamed when it hit her skin, the steady pulse would have been soothing if it were warm. Scrubbing harshly at her skin, she tried and failed to get rid of the tingling, the desire, the heat... She felt feverish despite the cold, goosebumps raised all over, nipples erect.

 

_'Always and never touching and touched...'_

 

    That rich and velvety voice beckoned her toward logical relief until she could be properly sated. She closed her eyes and gave in. Nyota was no stranger to indulgence, she loved comfort and luxury within reason, and she 'comforted' herself quite regularly. This was no different.

 

    Turning the temperature knob from cold to steamy, she shivered under the warming spray. Backing up against the wall, she followed the rivulets of warm water down her body, tracing her ample curves. There was a distinct pulsation between her legs and she squeezed her thighs together, tightening her pelvic floor. Her hands gripped her breasts, seemingly of their own accord, and she pinched her nipples, letting out a little gasp. The action sent a jolt of pleasure through her. Squeezing her thighs again, she slid them against each other, feeling how slippery she had become. Unbidden, the image of T'pring's beautiful face sprang into her mind, the half-lidded dark brown eyes, heavy with desire, blushing green lips...

 

    She squeezed her legs together again, feeling ashamed. How could she think like that? T'pring was nearly killed! She was recovering in the hospital, helpless and dying...

 

    Tearfully, she whispered her sorrow into the silence. “And I molested her! I'm a monster!” Her grip on her breasts grew painful and she started to cry.

 

    A presence probed her mind, comforting and calming. Eyes closed, she saw swirls of silver and blue, delicate pastels shimmering like liquid. _'Care for yourself until we meet again.'_

 

    Her grip loosened and she felt the memory of the kiss, shame and guilt washed away. She sank down to her knees and spread them wide, left hand gently rolling her left nipple, right hand sliding over the curve of her belly, through the neatly trimmed hair, fingers sliding easily into her dripping folds. She rubbed the slickness over her hardened clit, small shy circles. She felt like she was being watched...

 

_'Now you are shy, beloved?'_

 

    The teasing voice rang in her head and she saw the beautiful face again, those dark brown eyes, those lovely green lips.

 

    “Oh!” Her muscles quivered, grasping and releasing empty air. Her right hand rubbed more firmly while her left sank down to slip inside her. She was so aroused that two fingers slipped in easily, pumping in and out steadily, rubbing the ridges within. She leaned back, opening up more for a third finger that burned only slightly. Tension mounted and her breathing went ragged. She bit her lip, losing her rhythm, rubbing furiously at her throbbing clit, hips jerking.

 

_'Beloved...release...'_

 

    She came hard, crying out, her whole body seizing up, waves of pleasure washing over her, the blue and silver shimmering with her pulsations, buzzing in her mind, on her lips, and the tips of her ears. The ghost of the kiss on her lips...

 

    “T'pring!” She opened her eyes, pulled back the shower curtain, eyes searching frantically. She could have sworn she heard her voice...felt her presence... Could it be the effects of the mind-meld? It was never intended for humans.

 

    She sat beneath the warm water for a long while, feeling so many things that she couldn't discern. When she finally cleaned herself up and got ready for bed, a message was waiting on her communicator. T'pring requested her presence tomorrow morning for tea. She blushed profusely, wondering how she could face the stoic and beautiful Vulcan after that steamy shower. What if she knew? What would she think? Suddenly, an even more frightening question came to mind.

 

    “What am I gonna wear?”

 


	5. To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock provides council to his friends as they navigate this strange new bond, since he is quite the expert in human-Vulcan relations.

After Uhura bid him goodnight, Spock shut off the vid-screen, allowing himself to sigh with relief. Nyota was a dear friend but that had been embarrassing and exhausting. If it were not for her obvious distress, he would never have allowed a human to probe such a sensitive topic. Yet another reason for Sarek to find him all too human and utterly disappointing. Even Michael, who was actually human, seemed to be more Vulcan, and yet Sybok, who was more Vulcan than either of them, was also the most human. Of course, he was committed for insanity as a danger to himself with his constant coma-inducing emotional outbursts, and Michael was imprisoned, disgraced, and dishonorably discharged from Starfleet as a murderous mutineer and started the bloodbath of a war with the Klingons, but somehow Spock still managed to be the least favored of his siblings. Humanity seemed to be the underlying defect in all the children of Sarek.

Jim stirred at the heartache, rising from his nest of blankets to embrace his bondmate, covering his face soft, sleepy kisses that quickly devolved into heated passion. Their hands found each other, arousal building, when suddenly the vid-screen rang. Spock recognized the room ID as T’pring’s temporary quarters and he felt ashamed for the short moment that he had considered ignoring it in favor of bedding his mate. Jim sensed the thought and blushed, flattered that he could make Spock abandon all sense of propriety. They shared a small smile before Jim slid off his lap and went to the kitchenette to make tea. Spock shut his eyes and took a deep breath, reigning in his desires and composing himself before answering the call.

“Spock, I apologize for calling upon you at such a late hour. I hope I have not disturbed you.”

“There is nothing to forgive. You were recently ill and you would not call without reason.”

“The matter is rather urgent. I awoke from the strangest dream. I only tell you this because we were bonded once. The dream was concerning Lt. Uhura.”

Spock’s eyes widened, a human response that T’pring would overlook considering her current dilemma. He quickly pieced the situation together.

“You bonded and it was quite strong.” T’pring felt the undercurrent of shame. Ever since the incident, she’s had difficulty controlling her emotions. The bond with Nyota was the only thing mediating her emotions so that she did not fall ill again.

This new bond was nothing like what she’d had with Spock. She felt connected to Nyota in every way and, if that dream was any indication, their hunger for each other would be insatiable. Still, there was so much she couldn’t understand, namely the illogical and passionate emotionalism of humans. Something that was deadly to her was essential to her mate. How could they be together? To understand, she needed to come to someone who could understand her predicament firsthand.

Sarek was an incredibly intelligent and accomplished man. His wife, incredibly restrained and patient for a human, a formidable woman to have survived on Vulcan despite the scandal. Spock’s family were the envy of all of Vulcan, the rebels of high society, controversial and endlessly attractive. Spock himself made history as the only Vulcan to reject the offer to study at the Vulcan Science Academy, the only Vulcan to join Starfleet and flourish with commendations and rumors of his adventures piqued the interest of all. She could never compete with him and he would always outshine her. If they had bonded, he would have done the cordial thing and left Starfleet to be her husband on Vulcan, and as a result she could never make a name for herself, she would only be Mrs. Spock. Spock was honorable and loyal to a fault. She would have ruined his life and broken his heart for a bond that would leave them both desperately unfulfilled. Since being freed from their bond allowed Spock to finally pursue his current bond-mate, she felt no guilt about ending it and was glad they could remain friends. Ironically, after working so hard to get away from him, he was now the only person who could help her.

“As the product of the first human-Vulcan bond in history, and as a member of the only other human-Vulcan bond in history, it seems logical to seek information about such a bond from you.”

“This is the only time where my unique heritage and my bond have been advantageous.” A slight smirk lifted the corner of Spock’s mouth and T’pring mirrored the action. For Vulcans, this was akin to laughing out loud. Spock was the most amusing person she had ever known and she was tired of everyone in the universe trying to make that seem like a crime, like his very existence was a crime. If she was being honest, no matter her desires, she feared that this bond would dishonor her family, that she and her bond-mate would be subject to the same snide discrimination that Spock had experienced growing up. She did not want to be famous for such a thing, to have Vulcan high society grant her invitations to coveted events solely for the notoriety and entertainment it would provide. She hated that this made her hesitant about completing the bond, something that could make her truly content, her primal self finally tamed. After a moment’s hesitation, she confided in Spock, speaking all of this, hoping he would not take offense as a half human in a relationship with a human.

“I take no offense. In truth, my friendship and my bond with Jim has taught me how valuable humanity is. I am beginning to embrace my human half instead of constantly fighting it or being ashamed of it. I never understood how my father could so obviously care for my mother but not care for my human half which she had given me. I believe their affection for each other lead to acceptance without understanding. Perhaps that is what you must do because you do not have a human half to mediate between your Vulcan sensibilities and your human mate. As for the opinions of others, Nyota is well used to discrimination against her as a human and as a female, interacting with many primitive societies in her travels as a Starfleet officer.”

T’pring’s eyes sparkled with amusement. This was precisely the kind of rebelliousness that had made Spock such a fascinating friend.

“I am well aware of Nyota’s strength and courage but I doubt my own.” Even with her closest friend, speaking so emotionally was uncomfortable. She looked away.

“T’pring, you went against Vulcan tradition. The _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_ has not been ordered in centuries. You were wise enough and brave enough to end our engagement, clever enough to devise a way to save me--”

“I did not--”

“T’pring, now that I know you did not want Stonn, what other logical explanation is there? You relied on my being half Vulcan to blunt the burning in my blood and chose my human Captain as your champion, knowing that Stonn would have defeated and killed me. Your cover story was quite believable.”

“It was not a lie, I believed I wanted Stonn, I knew I did not want to be bonded to you. I also knew I did not want you to die, I just failed to mention this.”

Lies by omission were still quite risque for a Vulcan and Spock admired her.

“You are braver and stronger than you know. Your mind held together longer than it should have. In records, no unbonded Vulcan has ever resisted devolving to their primal state after such an ordeal. You did.”

“Even if such discrimination were not a concern, we are so different and this occurred so suddenly. She had no choice in the matter. I clung to the healing effects of her open mind to soothe my primal state. Her mind was not made for this. For Vulcans, the bond is mutually beneficial. There is no benefit for her and the mind of a human is a fragile thing. How do you keep your bond from overwhelming you or your mate? How do you understand their flagrant emotionalism? How do you explain the differences between you? Between Vulcans, there is no need to explain, we know each other deeply. How do you face questions you were raised never to speak of?”

“In the same way yo do everything else: with courage and creativity. There is no simple way to have a relationship with a human. There will always be misunderstandings but your bond-mate will be patient and care for you despite such difficulties because being together is so much better than being apart.”

“It seems so strange to me. You were friends with humans before your bond-mate. I have never experienced such a thing.”

“I found that literature, specifically poetry and prose, as well as music, helped me to find a deeper understanding of human nature, and therefore, become more attuned with my human half and my human friends. Nyota enjoys music. She has a lovely singing voice.”

“I still remember what you told me when your blood fever broke, that having is not so pleasing as wanting. What if it is always true?”

“In my travels, I have learned that nothing is always true. The basic fundamentals of physics, which were always believed to be true at one time, change at the subatomic level. I found that with the right person, having is much more pleasing than wanting.”

“You are wise beyond your years. Thank you, Spock. LLAP.” T’pring raised her hand in the customary salute and Spock responded before shutting off the vid-screen. Jim waited 30 whole seconds before accosting his mate. Spock was expecting it since discovering that Jim had a kink for spoken Vulcan a few months ago. He genuinely hoped that T’pring and Nyota could find this same happiness together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been quite a while. A mixture of real life nonsense and writer's block. This chapter is courtesy of procrastination.


	6. Cupid is a Knavish Lad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhura arrives in the morning to speak with T'pring. Their conversation goes exceedingly well.

They were in T'pring's temporary quarters on Orion, drinking jasmine tea. T'pring had overdressed for the occasion, logically. Her instinct was to preen for her mate, silk dress, glimmering jewels, and elaborate hair-piece which doubled as a knife, practical beauty as per her preference. Her _pon farr_ has begun anew but it was different this time, more intense. She flushed green, her skin glistening. With a few deep breaths, she controlled herself. Nyota would arrive at any moment and they must discuss this logically.

The unorthodox nature of their courtship was dangerous. Spock could circumvent tradition because his human blood blunted the consequences. T’pring was not so lucky. If Nyota denied her, she would become deathly ill and require intensive treatment once more. Spock would not be aware of this, as the amok time was never spoken of openly, guided purely by instinct, masked in ritual and ceremony as a guise of civilization to hide the ugly shame of pre-reform Vulcan, before the saving grace of Logic.

T’pring was pouring fresh jasmine tea into the teapot passed down from her foremothers centuries ago when she sensed her mate draw near. Her hands shook and her breath came in short gasps as she forced herself not to run to the door. The doorbell rang and she bit her lip, the pain a momentary distraction from the heat stirring in her loins. She collected herself and walked calmly to the door, nearly losing her composure anew at the sight before her.

Nyota wore her formal dress uniform, which made perfect sense as they had been visiting on a mission to save a planet tearing itself apart with savage violence and not for shore leave. What did not make sense to T’pring was how she could look so lovely in a diplomatic dress. Starfleet’s uniforms were drab in comparison to those of Vulcan diplomats but Nyota made it look so good. The brightly colored printed sash clung to her chest, cinching at her waist and dangling playfully from her hip, proudly displaying her Kenyan heritage atop her gold-trimmed red dress. The medals on her right shoulder atop several braids revealed her recorded accomplishments in the line of duty.

T’pring was so entranced that she barely heard Nyota’s greeting. She licked her lips and moved aside, inclining her head to entreat her mate to enter, her eyes following Nyota’s graceful curves. She tore her eyes away and closed the door, leaning against the cool surface momentarily for support. Her blood was burning.

“I’m glad you invited me over. I wanted to speak with you.”

“ _I would speak with you as well and know your mind_.” T’pring’s eyes glazed over as she watched Nyota’s perfect red lips forming words she did not understand. Her mate’s body called to her, she could smell the arousal as she closed the distance between them. Nyota knew that they should discuss this, that nothing else should happen before their relationship is clear. She knew this, logically, but love is not logical and neither is desire. Heat was radiating off of the gorgeous Vulcan before her, adorned in jewels and silks and gold like a goddess, and she knew what would happen if she didn’t leave. T’pring was moving slowly. She was stronger and faster than Nyota would ever be but she was holding herself back, giving her time and space to leave if she wanted.

Rooted firmly to the ground, she looked into T’pring’s large dark eyes, trembling as she approached and their fingers interlaced, palms rubbing sensuously. An image came unbidden into T’pring’s mind through the hazy pleasure of their writhing fingers, and she leaned down until their mouths met in a soft embrace, chests pressed together. T'pring was pulled deep into the _plak-tow_ , her blood burning for her mate. Her every instinct centered upon pleasing her mate and readying her to carry her seed. She would not speak or think again until the fever was broken. Hormones flooded her dark green blood, allowing her to safely unleash her inner beast, sate her desire in the ample dark flesh before her, in eyes so dark they captured all light.

They undress hurriedly, T’pring ripping the dress in half to reveal her mate’s soft flesh, then quickly slipping out of her own, tossing aside her sandals. The display of strength had the intended effect, the scent of her mate’s arousal heightening, soaking through the thin cloth that shielded her maidenhood from view. The Vulcan's muscles were dense and heavy, her curves like ripe fruit. Where she was hard, Nyota was soft, layers of tissue beneath her lovely skin, pliable yet lean and strong. T'pring felt her nipples harden, breasts swollen above her flexing pectorals, taut arousal inflaming every part of her from the tips of her ears to her dripping pouch and erect ovipositor. Her pouch swelled and opened, tiny dark green tentacles peeking out and leaking lubricant laden with pheromones. The sweet perfume made Nyota's head spin.

Her lover kneeled before her, slipping off her boots and stockings, running her fingers over the newly revealed skin, up strong calves and thick thighs, stroking all the way up to her intended prize. Nyota stops her before she reaches it, not read for whatever Vulcan lovemaking entails. Like any Starfleet officer, she was both afraid of and intrigued by the unknown. She needed to take control of this even though every instinct told her she was safe in T’pring’s very skilled hands, that a Vulcan would never harm her mate. She pulls T’pring towards the bedroom and pushes her down onto the silky sheets. Her lover’s eyes sparkle with delight. There was no doubt in her mind that T’pring was a top but Nyota was a very demanding bottom and she would have her new lover eating out of the palm of her hand.

She kneels before her goddess as though in worship, kissing up her strong green thighs, following the salty trails of fluid to her pouch, relishing the feral growls of pleasure coming from above. She passes her tongue over the slit and the tentacles peek out. She spreads them with her fingers in a Vulcan salute and the sight is so provocative, T'pring's ovipositor strains outward and twitches, dripping fluid. The ovi thickens and stretches, swelling and shivering. Nyota dips her tongue within the folds of the pouch and T'pring writhes on the sheets, gripping and tearing them, mindful not to touch her mate for fear of injuring the delicate human, head swimming in the primal hormonal rush of _pon farr._ Nyota licks up and out of the dip, reaching the base of the ovi, feeling it shiver. She licks a hard stripe up and swallows the length, feeling the slick smoothness of it as it throbs in her throat. T'pring's toes curl and she fists the sheets, hips thrusting upward, a feral cry of pleasure ripped from her throat as her egg passes on a wave of gushing sparkling fluid thru her ovi and down Nyota's throat.

'Mine, mine, MINE'

Pleasure rips though Nyota from their bond and she comes unexpectedly, almost choking. Waves of love and affection mix with arousal and possessiveness as Nyota runs her hands over her mate's still writhing form. She’s unsure of which feelings are from her or her lover or both of them. Fondling her breasts and hard abs, tongue stroking the ovi in her throat, she relishes milking the pleasure from it, riding out her own orgasm, pussy drooling and gripping hungrily at the open air. Her head hurts from the intensity of it. After a moment, T'pring lifts her head gently, removing her ovi and kissing Nyota hungrily, tongue thrusting deep to taste herself. Strong fingers caress dark temples to soothe the pain and the bond relaxes, no longer straining from the imperfect connection. Humans were never meant for this.

Breaking their passionate kiss, T'pring unfastens the lovely lace that obscures her lover’s breasts, admiring the beautiful piece before tossing it onto the ground and turning a lustful gaze to the soft mounds heaving before her. She pinches a nipple, causing Nyota to cry out in pleasure, and strokes down her side with two fingers before pushing beautiful lace panties aside and thrusting them deeply into her hot, wet slit. Lovely lilting moans escaped red parted lips as Nyota’s body shivered with pleasure. T’pring was reading her mind, or she was readily thrusting her erotic desires forward, begging her goddess to be satisfied.

T’pring would see her satisfied, adamantly and thoroughly.

Pink folds grip at the green fingers within and Nyota is finally ready to relinquish control, fucking herself on those fingers wildly as T'pring massages deeply over the tight bundle of nerves near her pubis, running her thumb over the throbbing nub above. As she rides T'pring's fingers, she licks and sucks at the pointed tips of her ears and is rewarded by a groan, a strong hand gripping her ass, spreading the cheeks and dipping one slick finger in. Nyota comes hard, whimpering as the flood slides over the fingers within her.

T'pring bites into her shoulder, drawing red blood, feeling Nyota's orgasm and her own rip through her, sensitive fingers luxuriating at the pulsing inside her mate. Another egg shoots out of her ovi, followed by ropes of clear sparkling fluid. They are both crying out, tears in their eyes, lost in senseless pleasure and Nyota is begging to be fucked. Even the pain in her shoulder feels good and she’s certain Vulcan hormones are intoxicating. She feels a primal urge to have T’pring inside of her, to thrust deep and release inside of her and fill her up with glitter until her cup runneth over.

“Please, please, please...” It falls from red panting lips like a prayer.

The bond shows her what her mate desires and she complies. Nyota reclines on jewel-toned silk pillows as T’pring peels off her sticky lace panties. She slides between her lover’s legs, placing the thick thighs on her strong shoulders, leaning forward to place her fingers on the mind-meld points. She poises over her mate, ovi thick with desire, tentacles twitching and dripping in anticipation, looking deeply into her mate's dark eyes, ready to complete the bond, lacing their fingers together.

Sweet red lips beg prettily for union, for fulfillment. She looks away from the beautiful face and sees the dripping dark folds and the bright pink between them, entrance leaking, and presses her ovi slowly into the slick quivering opening, groaning at the searing heat and the grasping ridges within. Taking a dark nipple into her mouth, she moans her praise, Nyota's hands in her hair. Sensations pass between them and they feel as one, move as one, think as one, exist as one being wrapped in pleasure, both filling and being filled.

When T'pring is buried to the hilt, the pert nipple is released and she locks lips with her mate again, reveling in becoming the flame at the heart of Vulcan, grinding into her mate, feeling the soft flesh parting and pulsing around her, welcoming her, massaging her, squeezing her, and she vibrates, ovi undulating within, stimulating her mate in kind until her high keening of 'more, please, more' becomes too much and she cannot resist transforming it into a lion's roar by fucking her hard and deep, sliding with delicious friction in and out of her mate's dripping, tight pussy. It's so good, so sweet, and she's gripping Nyota's hips so hard it leaves bruises, feeling her lover's red nails scratching green stripes down her back.

The slapping of tender flesh echoes in the room, belied by the feral roars ripped from a heart of flame, shaking the bed beneath them. Nyota grips dark curls, long freed from their intricate style, pulling it and shouting her pleasure to the heavens until her muscles tense and contract rhythmically. Lost in orgasm again, it rips through them both and Nyota clings to her lover, come dripping down the hard twitching length within her. T'pring tenses up, thrusting deep and coming hard, implanting the egg in her mate, nourishing shimmering fluid guiding it to thick and fertile walls awash in oceans of release. Soft walls clench and release, overflowing with sparkling fluid. T’pring collapses onto her mate, head resting on her soft, heaving bosom, gentle hands running through her hair, warmth surrounding her as she slips into dreams. Nyota can feel the soft purring coming from her lover’s chest and her heart aches at how adorable her big, strong, serious Vulcan can be. A smile on her lips of pure satisfaction, she feels safe and loved. She sighs contentedly as the length within her softens and slips out before shrinking back within the folds from whence it came, sparkling come dripping out of her. Before she drifts into gentle dreams shared by her goddess, she wondered if all Vulcans sparkled or just hers.

The mating drive is satisfied and her fever breaks but it will be days before their lovemaking is finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I procrastinated even more. Enjoy!
> 
> "Cupid is a knavish lad.  
> Thus to make poor females mad."  
> \- A Midsummer Night's Dream


End file.
